


I'd Rather Starve

by idylliclarcenist



Category: Given (Anime)
Genre: Abstinence, Angst, Canon Compliant, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Genital Piercing, Guilt, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Mentions of Past Dubious Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Canon, Post-Movie: Given
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idylliclarcenist/pseuds/idylliclarcenist
Summary: Akihiko is doing his best to move on from his mistakes and build a healthy, happy life with his boyfriend Haruki, but what is he supposed to do when visions of what almost happened between them haunt him daily? Where is he supposed to find faith in himself when he still feels so fucking unworthy of redemption? He wants to believe he's a changed person, but the knowledge of what he's capable of and the temptation of Haruki's mere existence eat away at the back of his mind. Haruki is everything he wants, and now the extent of that desire threatens daily to buckle and come toppling down on everything he's worked so damn hard for.As soon as Haruki picks up on his internal strife, however, he decides to prove to Akihiko that he's ought to trust himself a little more. He's got some creative ideas regarding how.
Relationships: Kaji Akihiko/Nakayama Haruki
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	I'd Rather Starve

That blissful spring had come and gone. The drift of cherry blossoms in the chilly air had dwindled away, replaced by the scent of cooked concrete and a warm summer breeze that made band practice and increasingly sweaty endeavor. Despite how full Haruki's heart had felt, his apartment hadn't gotten much fuller at all, and it took a lot of convincing before Akihiko could wrap his head around the idea of being welcomed back into his home permanently. For such a brash dumbass, he sure could be humble when it was inconvenient.  
  
The place was full of moving boxes, each one inscribed sloppily by pen with its contents. Akihiko didn't have a whole lot, but for a relatively small apartment to begin with, even a handful of boxes felt like a mountain.  
  
An exasperated sound falling from his lips, Haruki collapsed next to his partner and propped a foot up on one of the boxes. "Shit, I'm beat."  
  
Akihiko looked ahead at nothing, body shifting just slightly.  
  
"Why did I even opt into band practice today?" he went on, lamenting. "Man, if I manage to get myself dropped as a _support_ bassist, my career's over."  
  
It'd been a month since they sat together on that cold concrete bench and talked. Actually _talked,_ not about mundane things band practice or what's for lunch or whatever fit into a fifteen-minute smoke break. Akihiko had poured his heart out in a way Haruki had begun to doubt he was even capable of, and the memory of seeing the man he'd loved for so long on his knees and begging for him was something that still sent heat to his face and a shiver up his spine. It was almost hard to believe he'd gone back to being so cold and reserved that quickly, and he scowled in disapproval at the silence.  
  
More intently this time, Haruki eyed him. "Oi." he said, placing a hand flat on the other man's head as Aki had done to him many times before. Akihiko flinched away.  
  
It made his stomach twist. The permission to touch him and hold him had finally been granted in their new officiality as a couple, but for the past several weeks, Akihiko hadn't let him get close without excusing himself or finding an excuse to shrug off affection. The tension was palpable and, while Haruki sat and stared in soft bewilderment, Akihiko averted his gaze. "Sorry," Aki murmured, vaguely acknowledging the awkward air.  
  
"Seriously, what's up with you?"  
  
No response.  
  
"Hey. If we're living together, I don't expect to have you moping around like some stone-cold statue every day, alright?" Haruki scolded gently, dropping his hand and giving him a firm look. "If there's something you want to talk about, say it. You usually love speaking your mind."  
  
Several beats of silence passed. Cool, another dead-end conversation.  
  
Haruki groaned, shoving his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "Fine," he sighed reluctantly, moving to stand up. "I'm off. If I'm late again, she'll chew me out for sure."  
  
Akihiko grasped his wrist urgently before he could move away, but released him just as quickly as if his skin burned to touch. Haruki half-turned, brow knitting with concern as he examined his boyfriend's face. If just for several seconds, Akihiko stared back; he observed how several tendrils of Haru's hair had grown long enough to just lightly brush his collarbone again; the fog of concern in those remarkably expressive golden eyes.  
  
Perhaps most poignantly, he noticed the way his shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, exposing pale skin. _Fuck, he was hot. Way too hot._  
  
"What's up with you?" Haru urged again, less confrontationally this time. He eyes were pleading, confused, and even if Akihiko quickly averted his gaze again, something about that expression still seared into him like a hot poker. He watched Aki chew his lip, his nerves becoming increasingly obvious.  
  
His jaw clenched. "Nothing. Have fun."  
  
Haruki's face dropped, unimpressed. _Have fun,_ he says. What a weirdo. "Yeah, it's gonna be a blast." he replied flatly, adjusting the hood of his jacket and heading for the doorway to slip on his shoes. "Clean this place up a bit while I'm gone, would you? At least hang up some of your clothes."  
  
Aki fiddled with the half-full bottle of tea in his lap and looked down at his feet intently. Haruki walked over and, without hesitation, reached between his legs to steal the bottle playfully, taking advantage of Aki's upward look of surprise by giving him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. A split second for Haruki, and something that felt like it froze time for Akihiko as he sat feeling almost magnetized by the other man pulling away.  
  
"See ya," Haruki chimed, blissfully unaware, grabbing his keys off the counter and taking a swig of the stolen tea on his way to the door.  
  
As soon as it shut, Akihiko looked at his own trembling hands. Christ, this was hard.  
  
 _He wanted him so, so fucking badly._ That kiss and each one before it was torture. The temptation Akihiko felt to grab Haruki's lean, tall body and squeeze him hard and kiss his mouth until it was sore brought back memories that hurt. The way he'd once seen Haruki's tearful face underneath him—the sound of his voice cracking as he pleaded, and recalling just how close he had had gotten to completely and utterly ravishing him mere months ago. He almost fucked him like he was _nobody,_ like he meant nothing. He could have hurt him. He could have—  
  
"You sure you're alright?" Haru tried one last time, hand perched on the doorknob, breaking him out of his train of thought.  
  
 _Fuck,_ Akihiko thought. He didn't deserve him. As hard as he'd tried the past few months to redeem himself for very nearly taking advantage of his best friend, each and every caring gesture Haru made felt like something he hadn't earned yet. Why would somebody as savage as himself deserve someone as unconditionally kind as Haruki? What made him think he had the right to lay claim to a man like him?  
  
"Yeah," Akihiko finally replied, forcing a tight little smile to ease the other's nerves. "I'm good. Sorry."  
  
Although looking slightly unconvinced, his words were met with a hesitant nod of acknowledgement. The door closed and the same thoughts rushed back into his mind like a broken dam. He already did, as a matter of fact. He already _did_ hurt him, and that pained expression of Haru whimpering beneath him many months ago festered like a wound inside his head. Akihiko put his head in his hands, face hot with anger and desire and everything in between, and sat like that for a long while.

* * *

By the time the door reopened and Haruki stepped back into his apartment, Akihiko had done a little unpacking and a lot of overthinking. Their previous arrangement of Aki sleeping on the couch seemed strange to resume while now officially romantically involved, so cramped as it may have been, his first night living with the boy again meant they'd cuddle up on the mattress and tangle into the least uncomfortable position possible. He had to admit he wouldn't miss waking up with a sore back, though.  
  
A little nerve-wracking, considering Aki's current struggle to keep his hands to himself, but he'd do his best. He heard the distant jingle of keys outside the apartment before the handle twisted open.  
  
Akihiko laid there and listened silently, contemplating feigning sleep. He could tell Haruki was making an attempt to be quiet with the lightness of his footsteps, and heard the floor creak gently when his boyfriend poked his head into the bedroom doorway curiously.  
  
"Still up?" he heard him ask while he unzipped his jacket.  
  
Aki wasn't entirely prepared for the sight of him as he lowered his phone to fix his gaze on his silhouette. The room was dim as the day grew older, but the pretty tangle of Haruki's hair against his shoulders was immediately visible, roots lightly damp with sweat. His eyes were soft and affectionate as he shrugged off the garment, leaving him in a tank top that clung to his lithe body and lean muscle tightly. He looked tussled and tired and so unbelievably sexy, and the fact he wasn't even trying made it all the worse.  
  
Not unlike a hungry animal, Akihiko was practically salivating. Haruki slid his tank up and over his head and tossed it into the hamper. _  
  
_"Yeah," Akihiko finally managed. His voice cracked at the sight.  
  
Haruki's brows furrowed quizzically before he let out a snort, humored. _"Ye-ah,"_ he mocked the comedically faulty timbre of his deep voice playfully, easing his knees onto the bed to begin to crawl over to Akihiko with a sly little smile on his face. For every ounce of discomfort Akihiko had been feeling, it was met with equal parts obliviousness by Haruki. Akihiko's heart lunged as he realized what the other man was doing.  
  
Oh no.  
  
With the setting sun streaming in through the bedroom window, Haru straddled his thighs and plopped his ass directly on Aki's lap. The warmth of the light complimented the undertones of his skin perfectly. He had always had such a pleasantly warm essence to him, from the color of his sandy flaxen hair to the shine of his disposition, and feeling the heat of their bodies together felt like the first touch of sunlight in a long time. His heart beat fast in his ears, his face flushing as his blood continued to rush—  
  
Downward. Haruki blinked as he felt something hard nudge the inside of his thigh, and Akihiko felt like he could reasonably die then and there.  
  
"Shit. I'm sorry," Akihiko uttered hurriedly, placing his palm flat on Haruki's stomach to scoot him back and off his excited dick urgently. "I didn't mean to— fuck, it's because—"  
  
Haru hummed observantly. "So that's what's going on."  
  
It wasn't an expression he'd ever seen on Haruki before. That innocent, charming face; the same one that had always greeted him brightly for band practice, the same one that began by coyly avoiding his gaze that day in high school. The one that had overflowed with tears the night Aki pinned his still sleep-addled body to the couch and nearly exploited him in a drunken haze. His eyes were just barely narrowed, a knowing smile resting on his lips as he sat there with all of the cool and collected composure Aki wished he currently possessed.  
  
Lying there red-faced and breathless, this was a distinct swap of their usual dynamic.  
  
"I gotta say, this is a new look for you." Haruki mused, hands wandering absentmindedly up his chest. He felt it expand and collapse deeply, the rhythm of his breathing visibly disturbed as every part on his body he touched lit up like fireworks. "You want to do something to me, don't you?"  
  
 _Fuck yes._ Every morning he passed him in the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, he wanted to pin him against the wall and fuck him. He watched him bend to grab something from the fridge and the thought of holding those narrow hips and screwing him against the counter consumed his every thought. When Uenoyama and Sato left early on school nights and they were left alone to practice, he wanted to test the sound-proofing by making him absolutely scream.  
  
Haru watched his fists clench and nodded. "It's okay," he assured him, leaning in to lay one soft kiss on his neck. "I get it."  
  
Akihiko's breath just hitched, fingernails digging into his palms.  
  
One kiss turned into several. Haru's voice was right next to his ear, close enough to feel his warm breath and the resonation of his voice. "You're afraid to touch me, huh? You think I can't handle it."  
  
"No," he murmured.  
  
A soft sound of acknowledgement. "You think _you_ can't handle it."  
  
Silence. Akihiko shifted stiffly, and the realization of why he'd been acting so oddly caused a chuckle of relief to tumble from Haruki's lips. That was what all this was about? Aki's fear over his own self-restraint, as if he was some fragile flower that could be sullied? His poor, threatened masculinity. "I knew you were crazy when I agreed to date you." he informed him lightheartedly, tapping his lower lip in an attempt to coax out some of the pained seriousness in Akihiko's features. "Before then, probably. So relax already."  
  
"Haruki. You really should get off."  
  
"Why?" he countered, fingertips exploring beneath the hem of Aki's shirt. "Do you want me to stop?"  
  
 _No._ Against his own better judgement, he shook his head just barely.  
  
"Then what's going to happen to me if I don't, Akihiko?"  
  
Just the way Haruki said his name sent shivers of desire up his spine. He was so fucking _close._ He was everywhere. His weight on his lap, lips on his neck, and now the playful dance of his fingertips against his lower torso. Akihiko felt his cock throb distinctly in his sweatpants, and every fiber of his being wanted to grab him and kiss him and turn every trace of passion he felt into unharnessed, forceful pleasure. His lust wanted to break him and put him together again, but his love wouldn't let that happen.  
  
Instead of confessing to any of that, his eyes screwed shut and he made an indignant noise. "I don't know. I don't fucking _know,_ I just don't want— I want—"  
  
Before he could put together a sensible string of words, he felt his sweats begin to be coaxed down by the bassist's nimble fingertips. His movements were slow, seeking approval, and Akihiko's wide-eyed stare without complaint seemed to be just that. Haruki rested his hand loosely over the bulge in his boxers, right over the center of his desire, and Akihiko slung an arm over his own face to breathe haggardly into his elbow. "You don't trust yourself around me anymore. So tell me: what should I brace myself for? If I touch you like this, are you going to lose your mind?"  
  
He whined in pleasure, and Haru struggled momentarily to keep a handle on the situation with the way that made him flush.  
  
This was, after all, out of his element. He didn't have much experience possessing the upper hand in the bedroom, and certainly not with a man, but something about their positions seemed almost cathartic for the moment. A much-needed contrast to the night Akihiko couldn't stop tormenting himself over. He bit his lip thoughtfully, eyes analyzing the boy beneath him for any signs he should slow down while he slowly slid his boxers down his thighs.  
  
His hips lifted to make the process easier, so he kept going.  
  
Akihiko's dick bobbed right up once freed from the hem of his underwear, and Haruki noticed his head shift to the side just barely to bury deeper into the crook of his elbow. It was quite charming, actually, seeing him so uncharacteristically vulnerable. Almost _submissive,_ proof of his arousal standing tall between them.  
  
He doubted he'd ever get to see it again, so he vowed to himself he'd drink it up.  
  
It was undeniably embarrassing to admit to himself, but the sight of Akihiko's dick was something he'd spent plenty of time mentally fabricating as he'd guiltily jerk off in the past. It was almost surreal to gaze upon him in the flesh then, seeing every distinct curve leading up to his flushed glans, his admittedly intimidating girth from base to tip. A vein ran all the way up the side, momentarily surprised to find a curved barbell in his frenulum, and he couldn't resist from reaching out to gently acknowledge the piercing with a curious fingertip. His hips twitched satisfyingly in response.  
  
He wondered how many people had toyed with that piercing the same way, and watched him squirm just the same. The thought ached.  
  
"You haven't up and attacked me yet," he mused, as if Akihiko _wasn't_ visibly writhing with the temptation to take over. "I'm not very afraid at all."  
  
There was so many things Akihiko wanted to say. _'You don't have to do this,'_ for one. _'Are you sure? Is it too early? Do you want this? Is it alright?'_ Unfortunately, every single one melted away the instant his boyfriend wrapped his fingers around his aching shaft and began to experimentally stroke up and down. It wasn't that he knew what he was doing worth a damn—the tentative pace of his hand wasn't exactly mind-blowing—but the mere knowledge it was Haruki touching him stoked a dangerous fire.  
  
 _Haruki. Haruki, Haruki. For the first time, Haruki was touching him._  
  
He stifled a groan unsuccessfully, and the man sitting contentedly on top smiled with pride. "Look at me."  
  
"Wh-why?"  
  
He squeezed his dick softly, running his thumb across the head. It toyed with the piercing again gently. "I want to know what your face looks like while you're struggling to behave for me."  
  
Trembling, Akihiko dropped his arm. His face was bright red, mouth agape as he breathed jaggedly through parted lips, and Haruki could've sworn he saw pinpricks of tears in his eyes as well. He watched his expression dotingly as he stroked him up and down, a gentle, controlled rhythm that seemed almost designed to prove Akihiko that pleasure could be soft and slow and sensual. He was _capable_ of withholding his own desire enough to feel that.  
  
"You're doing so good." he praised softly, chuckling as he watched Aki's hips fall into an unconscious rhythm of bucking into his hand.  
  
Haruki wasn't just there to get him off, though. No, he had a point to prove.  
  
He leaned in, pressing his lips gently against Akihiko's like a siren seducing its prey. Soft and smooth like good espresso, and it took every ounce of strength in Akihiko's body not to throw him down and change the pace like he'd done with every partner in the past. Somewhere during the kiss, Haruki's hand slowed to a stop, leaving Akihiko's cock neglected between them for several long seconds. He was lost in the kiss enough not to mind, but when Haruki pulled back and they suddenly locked eyes, he immediately understood something was up.  
  
"Well," Haruki began lightheartedly. "I'm taking a shower. That practice sesh today took a lot out of me, you know?" he sighed, stretching his arms over his head theatrically and wincing an eye shut as he yawned.  
  
 _Wait. What?_  
  
Suddenly, all at once, Akihiko understood what was going on. This was a fucking _test._ He laid there, astonished, part of him wanting to stutter a selfish objection and the other desperately searching for that self-control he'd worked so hard to garner. It felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head when Haruki shifted to get off of him, the loss of presence in his lap making the throb of his dick nearly painful. It might have been comical if he were in the right mindset to see it.  
  
"Don't wait up if you're tired, alright? I'll probably knock out as soon as I hit the bed, too." He caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror and tucked a sweaty lock of hair behind his ear before he shut the door behind him.  
  
The silence of the room rang in Akihiko's ears. He absorbed what'd happened, gradually.  
  
Both hands clasped over his face and he breathed into them like he'd just held his breath for hours. His mind ran rampant, torturing him further. _Haruki alone in the bathroom, surrounded by steam; entirely helpless, stripped completely and just waiting to get fucked. His hair wet and plastered down the nape of his neck, just begging for Akihiko to grab a fistful of it and yank his head back to ravage his neck; beads of water rolling down from between his shoulder blades; the types of noises he'd make that'd resonate so beautifully in an environment such as the bathroom. The way that insufferably buttery voice would sound crooning Akihiko's name on the cusp of orgasm; the satisfaction of being his first male lover.  
  
_ He laid perfectly still, suffering, and Haruki stood with bated breath behind the shut bathroom door as he listened for any sign of life.  
  
It wasn't that he necessarily expected the door to bust open, but he knew Akihiko well enough to understand those thoughts were probably overwhelming him right about then. All as intended, of course.  
  
He heard a grievous little groan from the other side of the door. An undeniable success, if that defeated little sound was anything to go by. Haruki smiled to himself as he turned on the shower, stepping out of his clothes and quickly realizing his little plan might have backfired substantially as he gazed down at himself at full mast. Well, he thought, what better way to test Akihiko's resolve than to let him listen while he jerked himself off to completion in the bathroom feet away?  
  
If he was going to prove his point, he might as well do it as potently and unapologetically as possible. Akihiko's self-loathing streak be damned, he still didn't doubt he was strong enough to handle it.


End file.
